


Without You

by CaitMazur



Category: The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018), The Haunting of Hill House - Shirley Jackson
Genre: Chaptered, Drama, Family Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Horror, I just want Luke Crain to be happy!, Recovery, Sobriety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-22 15:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitMazur/pseuds/CaitMazur
Summary: When Luke loses Nell's spirit, he goes on a journey to find her again. After all, he needs her more than anything.





	1. Chapter 1

He sees her everywhere.

Not in the somewhat normal sense, where a song or a smell might remind you of someone. He actually _sees_ her. Talks to her. It’s a comfort he can’t quite explain to anyone, including himself, so he just doesn’t. He lets it be what it is. Like an imaginary friend.

Only it’s his dead twin sister.

It’s been two years, four months, eleven days, and fourteen hours since he’s put a needle in his arm. It was touch and go there for a while, after Nell, and after his father. But he’s stayed straight, and he’s fucking proud of it.

“You should get out,” Shirley tells him over dinner, in front of Jayden and Allie and Kevin, as if he too, were a child. “It’s not healthy to just stay in that house all the time.”

“I get out enough,” he answers, staring down at his pork loin, poking it with a fork.

His oldest sister sighs and picks up the plates and looks at him with that worried face she always wears, before retreating to the kitchen.

_Don’t worry about her_ , Nell says from across the room, sitting in a chair behind Kevin. She flashes Luke a wide grin. _She hangs out with dead people for a living_.

He stifles a laugh. _What’s that say about me?_

Nell giggles and Luke smiles into his dinner and Allie and Jayden and Kevin give each other a look that Luke has learned to ignore.

Living in Shirley and Kevin’s guest house for the past few years has been great. Luke never wanted for much, especially after being on the street. A roof over his head, a warm bed, and a working shower was more than he’d ever dreamed of a few years ago. He’s grateful. Grateful for his life, for his family, and grateful that Nell hasn’t left him.

After all, she’d told him there’s no without. _I am not gone. I am scattered into so many pieces, sprinkled on your life like new snow._

She’d come back to him, after the hospital. His new therapist called it a coping mechanism, but Luke knew better. Nell knew he needed her. She knew he was too fragile to leave. It’s a twin thing. Truly. 

She’s with him always, in the morning at the Early Birds AA meeting. At the diner he goes to later for a cup of coffee. On the ride home, and then again for lunch, work, and dinner. It’s made coping with her death a hell of a lot easier, and staying sober a little less shitty.

He knows how it looks. Hell, even he thinks it’s weird sometimes. But it’s what works. And you’re not supposed to fix what ain’t broke.

* * *

 

It’s April when he goes to visit her.

The cemetery sits at the top of the hill and it’s breathtakingly beautiful. Luke lugs the spring cemetery flowers up to the plot for his parents and Nell, chuffed to see her already standing beside her grave. She always wears her red dress, her hair long, cheeks pink and full of life, smiling as he comes up the grass. 

He can’t wait to show her the arrangement: pink peonies, white roses, purple forget-me-nots and green spider lilies. They cost almost half a day’s pay, but it’s worth it to see Nell’s reaction. Except, as he approaches her, he knows something’s different. Not necessarily wrong...just _different_. He can’t place his finger on it. 

Luke sets down the flowers at the grave, then turns to face his twin. She’s staring off, down the hill, her eyes far away.

“Nell?”

She turns, as if she’s just noticed he’s standing there. His heart quickens it’s pace, pounding loudly behind his rib cage. He’s too aware of himself now, and the fact that he’s seeing Nell here, again. Talking to her like she’s real.

She’s not real. He has to remind himself. The strange moment of clarity slaps him in the face.

“Luke,” she says, looking up at him sadly.

“What’s wrong?”

He’s a good few feet away from her, but suddenly, she’s cold. The flush leaves her cheeks. Nell’s eyes sink, her face hollows, and Luke steps back. He closes his eyes, squeezes them shut, tight, like he’s wincing in pain. It’s painful. He hates wishing her away.

“No, no, no,” he mutters, his hands finding his pockets. “Please Nellie, no.”

“Luke.” Her voice is airy, like it traveled with the wind, far away and close all at once. It surrounds him. He opens his eyes.

She’s directly in front of him, peering up at him, little Nellie, his best friend. She’s dead. So clearly dead, with dirt in the creases of her eyes, her skin drained of color, permanently a cold gray-blue. Her hair is stringy, caked in mud, her eyes glossed, the life inside of them gone.

“I’m stuck,” she tells him.

He’s afraid. So fucking afraid. Luke’s always afraid, always wants to run or hide or numb it away. But he can’t. He can’t ignore Nell, even when she looks like this, even when she scares the ever-loving shit out of him. He can’t leave. She’s always been there for him.

“Stuck where?” he manages to ask.

“I need to move on.” She sticks on that last word for a second, and he sees her teeth, rotten and yellow and dirty. He wants to close his eyes again.

“Move where?” Luke asks, forcing himself to look. To listen.

“I need to move on.”

She’s so close now, just up against his chest, he can feel her, a solid, rotting, stinking body. He cries out, a whimper of both fear and grief. He wants to reach out, to hug her, to let her know that even though he can’t say it right now, he loves her. 

She’s gone before his body reacts. So suddenly he falls forward, tripping over his own big feet, regaining his balance on the grass. He looks around. The cemetery is empty, and the wind sweeps through, ruffling the petals of the flowers at the Crain’s grave.

Luke remembers to breathe, and takes a big breath, wetting his lips and tasting salt from tears he hadn’t even realized he’d cried.

* * *

 

It’s later that night when he realizes something’s different. Something’s wrong. He’s back at the table, twirling his linguini on his fork when he notices. Nellie. She’s not here.

He drops his fork, closes his eyes, rubs them, and opens them again. The chair in the corner’s still empty. Luke stares at it, longingly, waiting for something...anything to come back to him. Where the hell is she?

“Luke?”

He comes to, looking across the table at Shirley, who’s got her head cocked to the side, watching him. Her eyes narrow. She knows something’s off.

“What?” he answers, too quickly, picking up his fork again. He feels his ears redden.

“How was your day?” Shirley asks slowly, dragging out each word.

“Fine,” Luke says, clearing his throat. He’s back to looking at the chair, tucked away in the corner, looking abnormally empty. “It was fine.”

“That’s good,” Shirley answers uncertainly, before Allie busies her with a question about her homework. Luke takes the opportunity to shovel three more bites into his mouth before he stands abruptly, hitting the table with his knee.

“Sorry,” he stammers, nearly tripping over the chair, eager to get it behind him. “Feeling weird. Gonna lie down,” he mumbles.

He hears them call out for him as he turns to leave, beelining for the front porch, scrambling across it, down over the driveway and into the front door of the guest home.

Luke expects her here, he’s so sure she’ll be here, standing in the door of the bathroom or sitting by the window. The house is dark and he flips on the light, but it’s empty. Fucking empty. He knows somewhere, in that rational mind of his, that no one was ever _really_ here. He was always alone. Somehow. Even though it didn’t feel like it.

He closes the door behind himself, his back flush against it and sinks to the floor. Luke brings his hand to his mouth, eyes darting around the room. To think, he’s spent his whole life running from ghosts. Now, he wants one to appear.

“Come back to me, Nellie.” His words echo across the empty space, unheard.


	2. Chapter 2

She’s gone. He’s sure of it now more than ever, sitting in the metal chair at his meeting, clutching a styrofoam cup in his hands. He’s shaking. For the first time in over two years, he’s fucking shaking. 

Still, he’s hopeful. He closes his eyes and still feels like she might come back, but something happened at that graveyard. Nellie tried to tell him something, and he didn’t understand. He’s replayed it over and over and over in his mind, and still…

_ I need to move on. _

A hand grips his shoulder and he almost throws his water. 

“Hey Luke.” It’s Greg, a member of the AA Early Birds, a sixty-five-year-old veteran with almost thirty years of sobriety under his belt. The wrinkles spread across his face are almost as intricate as the stories he tells when he shares, though nobody faults him for it. He’s interesting as hell. 

“Hey Greg.” Luke’s surprised to hear his own voice sound breathless. He takes a sip of his water, then looks back at the floor.

“Everything okay?” 

Luke peers up at him, trying to look as natural as possible. “Yeah, why?” 

Greg looks around the room and Luke follows his gaze. It’s empty. The chairs are bare, the table of snacks, cleared. It’s just Luke and Greg, and Luke could swear it was packed full just a second ago. He drags his hand over his face. He’s fucking losing it.

“You sure man?” Greg’s grip on his shoulder tightens. 

Luke sighs. “I’m fine. Just...feeling a little off.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really.” Luke downs the rest of his water and squeezes the brittle cup in his hand. 

Greg’s grip softens, and he shakes Luke a little. “Alright,” he says. “If you need me, you know where to find me, alright?” 

Luke nods. “Thanks,” he answers, grateful for the offer. But he won’t talk to Greg. He won’t talk to anyone about this. What the hell would he say?  _ Sorry I’m a little off, the ghost of my dead sister that’s been following me around for two years just disappeared. It’s like I’m losing her all over again.  _

He calls out of work that day, complaining of a sore throat and a slight fever. He gets a cab, asks the driver to take him to the cemetery. Maybe if he goes back, she’ll be there. She’ll feel him.  _ Please be there, Nellie.  _

The drive is uneventful and when the cab driver leaves him off, Luke overtips him, fueled by nerves. He makes the trek up the hill towards the grave plot, the massive arrangement he placed there yesterday marking it clearly in the distance. The damn place is empty, and he keeps opening and closing his eyes like somehow it’ll will Nell into appearing again. 

He just wants to talk to her, to feel her with him again. Tell her he needs her to stay with him. There’s too much temptation in the world, lurking in the corners, calling his name. He’s changed people, places, and things, but drugs and booze are always available if you look hard enough. He needs Nellie to stay clean. 

He  _ needs _ her. 

She’s not there. The plot is empty and Luke gets to his knees, slowly, the grass dampening his jeans. He leans back on his heels and looks up at the sky. A storm is rolling in lazily, dark clouds gathering in the distance. 

“Where are you?” he asks no one, knowing full well there’s no one here to hear him. “Why’d you leave me?”

He doesn’t know what he expects, but there’s no answer, and it clutches at him, helping his throat tighten and fat tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He hasn’t been alone like this in so long. 

* * *

 

He knows he’s desperate as he sits at his small table by the window and looks at Theo’s number in his phone. She’s the most likely to listen. He doesn’t want to bother her, but that loneliness fucks with him. He needs to talk to someone.

He calls her. 

“Hey Luke!” Her voice is pleasant, eager to talk, perhaps a little distracted. He can hear shuffling on the other side of the phone. 

“Hey,” he answers, chewing on his thumbnail. “You busy?” 

“Just finishing up some paperwork.” He hears her place something down and return her attention to him. “What’s up?” 

“Do you want to grab some dinner?” 

She’s taken off guard like he knew she would be. Luke barely leaves the house, why the hell is he suddenly asking Theo to go to dinner? 

“Sure,” she says slowly. “Everything okay?” 

It’s always the question everyone asks. “Yeah,” he answers. “I just want to talk to you about something.” 

“Okay, okay,” she says. “Where do you want to go? When?” 

“Tonight,” he says, jumping at the chance. “There’s that restaurant two blocks over from Shirley’s. Piccolo’s. They have pizza. Don’t tell Shirley.”

“Luke…” 

“I’ll see you at six?” He waits eagerly, leaning back in his chair, looking out the window across the driveway at Jayden who’s just coming home from school. 

“Sure Luke. I’ll see you there.” 

* * *

 

He waits out front of the restaurant, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, pacing before the door.

_ One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. _

Nell’s still gone and Luke feels worse than ever. His cravings this afternoon hit a record high and it scared the shit out of him. He needs to figure out how to get Nell back. He can’t handle losing her again.

“Hey.” Theo’s voice is soft and worried and Luke looks up and nods at her. 

“Theo. Thanks for meeting me,” he says. She’s studying him, he knows, to make sure he’s not high. He’s set an expectation for his family. Any time anything seems out of place, he’s met with skepticism. He supposes a relapse might be more believable than what he’s about to tell her. 

“You kinda freaked me out before,” she tells him. “Let’s go inside.” 

He nods as a response, following his sister into the restaurant. It’s relatively empty, and they sit immediately, disappearing into a high-booth table. Theo orders a vodka club. Luke orders a water.

“Okay,” Theo sighs. “You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

He chews on his lip, thinking about what he’s going to say. He went over it earlier, and it sounded crazy. He’s sure it’ll sound just as crazy now. 

“After the house,” he says, not daring to meet her eyes. “After the hospital and all that, I started...seeing...Nell.” He’s right. It sounds just as crazy as it did before, maybe even more so now because there’s actually someone listening. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Theo nod. “I see her too, Luke. She shows up in my dreams--” 

“No,” Luke says forcefully, bringing his eyes to meet his sister’s. “I mean, she’s been with me this whole time, following me...talking to me. She’s been the one keeping me straight and sober and sane. It’s like she’s here, but only I can see her.” 

He looks up at Theo, and she’s listening, intently, but doesn’t say anything.

“I went to the cemetery the other day and she…” he pauses, running his fingers across his mouth, “she disappeared. I haven’t seen her since, and fuck, Theo, it’s fucking with me so bad. I don’t know what to do. It sounds crazy, but I’m not crazy. I’m straight as a god damn pin. I didn’t know who to tell. I just thought...maybe...” 

He has the sudden urge to run. He’s making a mistake. 

_ She doesn’t believe you.  _

“Luke,” Theo says, reaching across the table. Her hand is cold as it touches him, and she closes her eyes for a moment before leaning back in her booth. She’s done this before, over the years, sporadically. When he used to lie to his siblings and Aunt Janet about where he was in high school, what he was  _ really _ doing when he was supposed to be studying. She’d rip the truth out of him and he hated her for it. 

He pulls his arms back into his lap. 

“I believe you,” she says. Relief floods through him instantly. The urge to run disappears. “Listen. I know you know there’s always been something,” she flexes her fingers, “strange that runs through our family. Aside from The House. We’re just... _ sensitive _ .” She looks down at her hands, turning them over to study them. 

“Sensitive?” 

She looks up at him again. “Susceptible to the supernatural. Some of us more than others. Nellie and Mom had it worst. But the rest of us…” she shakes her head. “We’ve all got our thing, Luke. I can’t touch someone without relieving their memories. Not just seeing them, but  _ feeling _ them. Fear and pain and suffering, but happiness and love too. It’s not necessarily a curse. But it’s not necessarily a gift either.” 

He shakes his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

She shrugs. “What, and burden you with something else to worry about? Nah,” she waves him off. “I’ve learned how to cope with it. It’s nobody’s problem but my own.” She smiles at him. “I believe you’ve been seeing Nell. But maybe it’s time to let her go.” 

The suggestion is sound and rational, but it’s not what Luke wants to hear. Still, he smiles at his sister, grateful for her company. They talk about life, about Luke’s sobriety, about living with Trish, and how much they miss Nell. It’s comforting, but not the same. 

He still knows he needs his twin, and it’s nobody’s problem but his own.


End file.
